There's Something Behind Here
by CalliopeCalling
Summary: Ah, Trask Ulgo: we all love to hate the bleached blond twit. But have you ever wondered what it would be like if Trask were the survivor of the Endar Spire instead of Revan? This is his story.
1. Consider the Universe Officially Altered

Chapter One: Consider the Universe Officially Altered

"There's something behind here," Trask Ulgo said loudly. A demonic light seemed to illuminate his empty blue eyes.

His newly acquired bunkmate, H'Trad Naver, rolled his eyes.

"How the hell do _you _know? This is the twentieth time you've said that, and every time you've been wrong."

"I just know there's something behind here," said Trask emphatically. "Something big! Possibly universe-altering!"

"Oooh, I'm scared now," mocked the muscled Republic soldier. "What is it, a crate of gizka?"

"Well, let's open it and find out!" Trask said, grinning strangely.

"What? I thought you just said it was 'possibly universe-altering'!" said H'Trad, now thoroughly frustrated.

Trask sighed in impatience.

"That blast must have hit your head harder than I thought," he said, "Whenever there's a giant door with the chance of certain death behind it, you _always_ have to open it. In this galaxy, anyway."

At this train of irrefutable logic, H'Trad was left speechless. Trask ignored him, punching in the codes to the locked door. It opened. Sure enough, at the end of the long hallway, a mustachioed man dressed in all black sauntered towards them as if in slow motion.

"Damn, another Dark Jedi! Better let me handle this one," Trask yelled. He knew what he had to do.

H'Trad laughed harshly.

"What is **wrong** with you? You have a suicide wish?"

"No, just a job contract," said Trask decidedly. "I pledged to Bastila that I would throw myself into the sinister path of whatever was threatening to kill you."

"Why would you do that?" H'Trad demanded, incredulous. "I'm just a soldier, it's not like I'm an amnesiac Sith Lord who has been reprogrammed in order to eventually save the Republic."

Trask was silent.

"Well, actually..."

Again, H'Trad was speechless.

"So, what, am I Darth Revan or something?"

"I'm afraid so," Trask said. "They tried to keep it top secret. That's why your replacement name is 'Darth Revan' backwards. The Jedi thought it was subtle."

H'Trad threw his arms in the air helplessly.

"Fine," he said. "If I really am Darth Revan, I should be able to take this creepy apprentice guy, no problem. It's not like you'll survive, anyway. You can't even fight a few Sith soldiers without passing out."

And with that, the reinstated Revan casually strutted to meet the still approaching enemy. The Dark Jedi grinned grotesquely, revealing yellow teeth.

"At last, this incredibly long hallway comes to an end," he said with a smirk. "It's time for you to die!"

"No!" cried Trask, running towards them. "Wait! That's my job! I already spent all my pay during shore leave!"

The Dark Jedi pulled out his lightsaber, looking down at Revan.

Suddenly, there was an inexplicable explosion, throwing Trask several feet down the hallway. A door sealed behind him, and he realized that Revan was trapped. Most likely dead.

"Oh my stars!" he monologued to himself. "Bastila's going to kill me!"

He began to run through the lower deck of the Endar Spire. A few minutes later, Trask arrived at the bridge.

Carth Onasi was standing by one of the escape pods, tapping his feet with impatience as he watched the floor. He looked up to see Trask staring at him with a blank smile, and Carth jumped back several feet in surprise.

"Who are you?" he asked suspiciously. "And how did you get here so fast? Last time I checked in on your companion, you were on the upper deck. There should have been swarms of Sith soldiers in your way, I saw them earlier on the security cams…"

"I'm Trask Ulgo, and I'm your new bunkmate," Trask interrupted in a loud voice.

A deeply disturbed look crossed Carth's face as he remembered the name.

"Right… I heard about you," he said cautiously. Speaking slowly, he continued, "Are you sure you're the only other survivor, Trask?"

"Sure as heckfire!" Trask shouted. "My companion was killed by a Dark Jedi."

Carth sighed audibly, muttering something that could have been "just my luck".

"What was that?" Trask asked loudly. "I'm a little hard of hearing. Everyone always has to ask me questions multiple times over."

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Get in the pod, will you?"

"I don't know, I think I'll step away from the pod that's my only chance of survival."

"Trask! Get in the damn pod! Who in their right mind would step away from the escape pod as a ship is blowing up?" said Carth exasperatedly.

"I was only following the option at the bottom of my visor screen," Trask said.

He clambered awkwardly in. Carth followed suit, shutting the door tightly behind him and pressing a big red button. The pod hurtled towards the sprawling planet of Taris below as it ejected from the exploding ship.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, readers! So I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this story; I'm a little busy at the moment. If you took the time to read this whole chapter, please write a quick review and let me know what you thought, so I can decide what to do next. Thanks!**


	2. Taris Is Rather Nice

Chapter Two: Taris Is Rather Nice

Carth woke up to find a disturbing pair of clear blue eyes looking at him. He flinched, clutching at the covers of his cot.

"Where am I? Who are you?" he demanded.

Trask shook his head.

"That crash must have hurt your head harder than I thought," he said, looking down at Carth. "I'm Trask Ulgo, your bunkmate. Remember?"

Carth rolled over to the other side of the cot, muttering,

"Of course, how could I possibly forget?"

"What was that?" Trask yelled. "I'm a little hard of hearing."

"I said I'm getting up," said Carth. "Now how did we get here? Are we on Taris? What happened after the escape pod crashed?"

"I pulled you out of the escape pod and dragged you across the city in broad daylight. Then I found some apartments and staked one out. "

Carth bolted up in the cot, anxious.

"Taris is a Sith occupied planet, you do realize that? How did you manage to pass the Sith patrols, I'm sure they were swarming the escape pod crash site!" He looked at Trask, suspicious. "You're wearing a Republic uniform, too!"

Trask just shrugged.

"They thought we had come from a costume party, and that you were drunk. They thought it was so funny, they helped me find this apartment."

Carth was speechless.

"Let me get this straight," he said suspiciously, rising from the cot, "The Sith just assumed we had come from a costume party? And then unknowingly helped you shop for a secret hideout?"

"I guess so!" said Trask, cheerily. "They were very friendly."

Carth rubbed his forehead, completely perplexed. From the IQ score listed on Trask's record, it _was_ theoretically possible that he was telling the truth. Finally, he took a deep breath and began to pull on his boots.

"All right. I don't know why, but I believe you. The next step is to find Bastila. Now, we can use this as a base to work from, but we'll have to be a little more careful in the future. We should try to get to the Lower City, it's likely that her pod crashed there. But we'll have to find a way to get past the Sith guards, they're not going to just let us down without authorization."

"I don't think that's necessary," said Trask.

"You don't think it's necessary?" Carth said with a laugh. "Why, do you have a better idea?"

"While you were out, I decided to grab a few soda-pops at the local cantina. Turns out the same Sith guards that thought we were going to the costume party were getting a few alcoholic drinks. They laughed themselves silly, and then they offered me one of their uniforms in case I wanted to go to another costume party. So I took it."

"I don't believe this," Carth said with a sigh.

"Well you should," said Trask. "Look, here's the suit."

From his abnormally large inventory bag, Trask pulled out the polished silver suit that was the traditional Sith uniform.

"Fine. Great," said Carth snappishly. "Let's go then. Put it on."

After Trask had clambered into the suit, the two left the apartment complex and walked wordlessly along the airy skyway of Taris. Trask's new armor glinted in the sunset as he awkwardly lumbered through the streets, waving at passerby. The bemused citizens smiled and laughed at him, waving back eagerly. Carth tried not to look embarrassed.

The Sith guard standing by the elevator to the Lower City merely wished them good luck when they passed, and soon they were walking along the damp streets of Taris' lower levels.

"Sure is disgusting down here," Carth said.

"Really?" shouted Trask. "I think it's rather nice."

His loud voice caught the attention of some nearby Black Vulkars, who had been discussing their superiority to the Hidden Beks. The Vulkars stalked over to where Carth and Trask where standing, surrounding them.

"Oiht gong-gong knowlo," hissed one of them threateningly.

"He says that Black Vulkars are the best, and that he wants to kill us," translated Trask to Carth.

"How do you know what he's saying? I didn't think you spoke any alien languages," said Carth, incredulous.

"I'm not sure," replied Trask nonchalantly.

"Hasshi waht iben long-long," said Trask to the Vulkar in a kind (if booming) voice. "Wati wanti feg woo! Ista tien wa, me hanna waht olo fa biente."

"What are you saying, Trask?" Carth said nervously, uncomfortably eyeing the surrounding gang.

The main Black Vulkar suddenly cocked his head, looking around at his fellow gang members. After a moment's pause, the leader stepped up to Trask and enfolded him in a warm embrace.

"Wast oiht watu watu," said the Vulkar in an obviously emotional tone. "Inta faha hulu, wana iben wati! Tu wast moit fula."

"Achina wa," Trask replied, wiping a tear from his eye. "Tong-tong wafua."

"Seriously, what's going on?" Carth demanded. "This is starting to scare me a little."

"You worry too much," said Trask, patting his new Vulkar friend on the back. "This poor guy has been dealing with a lot lately. His mother turned into a rakghoul."

"I'm not going to even ask," Carth said, throwing his hands in the air. "Can you just… can you just ask him if he knows where Bastila is?"

"Ahiita fan walu Bastila, tu ni-ni fula?" Trask said to the Vulkar.

The Vulkar nodded, and proceeded to give a very detailed answer. After he had finished, Trask turned to Carth.

"He says that Bastila crashed in the Undercity yesterday, and was immediately taken captive by the Vulkars. Their leader, Brejik, is planning on giving Bastila as a prize in the swoop race in two days. But this fellow isn't very happy with Brejik, because Brejik refused to give him the curing rakghoul serum to save his sick mother. He's the second-in-command for the Black Vulkar gang, and that means he has the exact location of Bastila _and_ the pass codes to override her cage. He says he'll take us to her, right now!"

Carth was speechless.

"You see?" said Trask, "Taris is a great place. Maybe I'll raise a family here someday!"


	3. Meet The Party

Chapter Three: Meet The Party

After walking down several shady side-streets, the Vulkar pulled Carth and Trask into an abandoned warehouse. He typed a code onto the keypad, opening the high security door. They entered a small, dimly lit room with a cage on the other end. The figure of a young woman was barely discernible. They approached the cage, and the Vulkar typed in a second pass code, unlocking the door. The previously captive Bastila looked up in surprise.

"Carth? What's all this about?" she said. "I… I don't understand. This doesn't make any sense! I wasn't supposed to be taken out until the swoop race in two days! And Trask, whatever are you doing here?"

"We're here to rescue you, Bastila!" said Trask brightly.

Bastila rolled her eyes, placing her hands on hips.

"Rescue me? Is that what you were trying to accomplish by opening this cage? I would hardly call this a rescue. More like a _chance_ encounter. Not to mention that had you not broken my intense concentration, I could have easily summoned the will to release myself."

"Intense concentration?" Carth chuckled. "So_ that's_ what you Jedi call napping. You learn something every day."

Bastila snapped her head and glared at Carth.

"May I remind you, Carth Onasi, that I am a fleet commander? And that my Battle Meditation saved you and your friend's lives on the Endar Spire?"

"On second thought, can we just leave her here?" Carth said to Trask.

"But you said Bastila was the key to the Republic victory! You said…"

"Yeah I know what I said," Carth replied, rubbing his forehead. "Just forget it, it was a joke."

Bastila sighed.

"I'm sorry if I seemed… harsh. It's just that you startled me. And I'd still like to know what Trask is doing here."

"I don't know. I just survived the crash, and then Carth and I came to rescue you. It was very easy," said Trask.

"But your instructions specifically said that…" Bastila began, trailing off as she realized Carth was standing there.

Carth raised an eyebrow.

"What instructions?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Carth," said Bastila lightly. "Anyway, we really should be moving on. I don't want to be stuck here for another two days."

"One moment," said Trask. "I need to thank Waht-Gisset here."

"Who is that?" Bastila asked Carth as they watched Trask hug the alien tightly.

"A friend Trask picked up. I don't know how he does it."

The three left the warehouse and walked back through the dirty streets of the Lower City. Suddenly, a female scream pierced the air. Trask's ears perked up.

"A damsel in distress!" he cried, "I need to go and help. Come on!"

Bastila and Carth tried to protest, but Trask had begun to race through the streets to the source of the racket.

"Might as well follow him," said Carth, shrugging.

The racket was caused by a young blue Twi'lek, standing outside the Lower City cantina. Next to her, a large Wookiee was coughing violently, clutching his throat. Several thugs surrounding the area were laughing.

"Someone help me with Big Z!" the Twi'lek girl cried in a thin, whiny voice, "Please! Anyone! I LOOOVE HIM! HE'S MY FAMILY!"

"It looks like that Wookiee had a bad sandwich!" said Trask. "What's going on here?"

"I don't know!" said the Twi'lek. "Just please help! He's the only person I love in this whole wide galaxy!"

"She really loves that Wookiee," Carth noted dryly to Bastila.

Acting quickly, Trask positioned himself behind the sputtering Wookiee. Placing his arms around him, Trask pulled his fist into the Wookiee's stomach. To everyone's astonishment, an enormous, spit-covered hairball expelled from the Wookiee's mouth and onto the sidewalk. A few of the onlookers cheered. The Twi'lek was relieved.

"Wow, I can't thank you enough! Big Z would have been a goner if not for you! We're good friends, ya know? Like, really really good friends! I couldn't handle it if something were to happen to him." She shook her head, laughing. "I keep telling him to stop lickin' himself, but he _never_ listens."

"That's disgusting!" exclaimed Bastila.

The Wookiee moaned mournfully, an assortment of growls and whimpers that apparently formed a language.

"Watch, he probably understands Wookieese," Carth whispered to Bastila as they regarded the scene before them.

"I find that highly unlikely, Carth," said Bastila with a faint snort. "I know for a fact that he has the IQ of a Gamorrean."  
"It's no problem, Zaalbar," Trask said to the Wookiee, giving him a tender hug. "And to answer your question, I'm honored to accept your life debt."

Bastila was speechless. Seeing her gaping mouth and glazed eyes, Carth couldn't help a hearty laugh.

"Told you so," he said with a grin.

"A life debt? Big Z, that's huge!" said the Twi'lek, in awe. Turning to Trask, she said gratefully, "Wow. You save his life, you understand his language… and we don't even know your name! Who are you?"

"I'm Trask Ulgo."

"Well my name's Mission, and I go where Big Z goes. We're a package deal. We look out for each other, right Big Z?"

The Wookiee moaned in agreement.

"So you two are my new bunkmates! That's swell," said Trask rapturously.

"Well, that was… an unusual development. I suppose we're going to start adopting every street orphan we meet now," Bastila grumbled to Trask.

"Hey! I heard that!" Mission said.

"It's called a side conversation," said Bastila angrily. "You're not supposed to be able to hear!" Letting out a deep breath, Bastila continued more calmly. "Perhaps I shouldn't be so quick to judge. It's possible that this will help bring us one step closer to leaving Taris. Do you know anyone we could talk to about bypassing the Sith blockade, Mission?"

"Hmm, that should be tricky," Mission replied thoughtfully. "We'd have to get the launch codes, then find a pilot willing to take the risk, and I…"

"How about we look inside this cantina?" Trask interrupted loudly, his demonic blue eyes fixed on the doorway.

"What…? Trask, I find it hard to believe that there will be anyone in that cantina worth talking to," Bastila exclaimed, irritated.

"There's something behind here!" Trask insisted. Looking around at the skeptical faces of his new party, Trask shrugged and opened the door, sprinting inside.

"Why is he always running! It's so maddening!" Bastila asked exasperatedly.

"Beats me," said Carth as they followed him inside. The cantina was dim and smoky, and unsavory faces leered at them from the sides. An extraordinarily short man draped in a strange white headcloth was standing in one corner, while a few Vulkar thugs taunted him.

"Who's that creep?" asked Carth.

Mission rolled her eyes.

"Him? That's Calo Nord, Davik's bounty hunter. If you bug him, he'll stick a thermal detonator on you. That's pretty much all he does."

"Talk about overcompensating," Carth muttered.

As they walked past, they heard the detonator exploding.

Trask was sitting at the bar talking animatedly to a muscled soldier in an orange vest, who was clutching an enormous Mandalorian rifle and drinking a full tumbler of vodka.

"That's Canderous!" Mission said to the others. "He works in the Exchange for Davik Kang, and he ain't no good."

"Just our luck," Bastila sighed. "Trask's probably placed us all right into the filthy hands of the Exchange. We'll be packed off to the Sith within the hour."

After a few moments of conversation, Trask and Canderous stood up and faced the rest of the party.

"Canderous here says that he can get us Davik's flagship, the Ebon Hawk."

"How… well… what about the Sith launch codes? And how do we know we can trust him? He's a Mandalorian!" Bastila fumed, clearly annoyed.

"Calm down, sweetie," Canderous said with a raspy laugh. "When we Mandalorians give our word, we honor it. I'll take you to Davik's estate, and we'll find a way to hijack the Ebon Hawk. And your friend here already gave me the Sith launch codes. Looks like you're about to get yourself a ship."

Everyone stared at Trask questioningly.

"Well? Where'd you get those codes?" Carth asked wearily.

"I thought I told you already," Trask said, eyes wide and unblinking. "After I got the Sith uniform this morning, I wandered into a droid shop to look around. The shop owner seemed to think someone named Davik had sent me, and she was scared. So she gave me a droid called T3-M4. When I talked to T3, he informed me that he was programmed to break into the Sith base and find the launch codes. Thinking it might be useful eventually, I followed him. The Twi'lek secretary at the front desk was angry, and asked me what my business was with the Sith. When I told her that I was a Republic soldier, and it was my personal mission to make all Sith pay for their crimes, she hugged me and burst into tears. She had been dating the Sith Governor there, and he broke her heart, poor thing. To get revenge, she had stolen the launch codes from the drawer of his bedroom and was planning on selling them to the Exchange that day. But she was so moved by my mission that she gave them to me as a free gift, and told me to 'give the Sith hell' for her."

The party was speechless.

"Why am I not surprised?" said Bastila, throwing her hands into the air helplessly.

"Come on, let's go back and get T3 where I left him," said Trask. "Then we can head for Davik's estate."


	4. Who's Afraid of Davik Kang?

Chapter Four: Who's Afraid Of Davik Kang?

The party stood at the gates of Davik's enormous mansion, nestled on a scenic vantage point overlooking the city below. Canderous brusquely swiped his passkey into the slot, and the gates slowly moved open. The group walked along the path for a distance before reaching the front entrance.

As they reached the intricate glass doors, the wizened crime lord stepped out from behind them. In a slow mobster's drawl, he said,

"What's this? Canderous at my door? And it looks like you've brought friends. I thought you preferred to work alone."

Calo Nord moved awkwardly forward from the shadows behind Davik, his sunglasses reflecting in the sunlight.

"Looks like Canderous is getting soft," he said quietly. "Very soft."

"Watch it, Calo," growled Canderous.

"Just ignore him, Canderous," Davik said apologetically, pushing Calo Nord back several feet. The bounty hunter skulked off, clearly aggravated.

"Sah-rry, he's been following me like a kath pup all week! I can't say I like it. It's creepy. I'm thinking it's 'bout time he found a better place, if you know what I mean. Now, why are you here?"

"I may have changed my mind about going solo, Davik," Canderous said. "This one here has a lot of potential. He…well, he gets the job done. Not sure how, but he does."

Davik scrutinized Trask, confused.

"Doesn't look like much, but hey, you probably know what you're talking 'bout. What's your name, sonny boy?"

"The name's Trask Ulgo, and I'm your new bunkmate!"

Davik let out a booming laugh.

"The kid has a weird sense of humor. You should be grateful I'm inclined to overlook it today, otherwise I might have to introduce you to my 'guest' chamber'," he said casually. "Come in, come in. You're all most welcome here. I'll show you around, give you a little tour."

Once they had explored every inch of Davik's spacious guest wing, Davik led them to their quarters.

"That's everything," Davik said cheerily. If you want food, or a mah-ssaage, feel free to use the slave quarters. Just don't go botherin' me or my other guests."

"Why not?" said Trask.

"Why not?" Davik repeated, laughing. "Ah, kid. You crack me up. How's about this, just don't stick your nose where you're not supposed to, got it? It might get broken off, to put it delicately."

As Davik left, he closed the door behind him.

"OK, WE'RE INSIDE!" Trask shouted the moment before the door locked shut. The team jumped, startled by his exclamation.

"Calm down, Trask. He'll hear you and come back." Carth said, rubbing his temples.

"I just thought it fit the occasion," Trask said.

"Well, what do you think we should do now?" Canderous asked.

"I want to go get some food. You guys stay in here and plan."

Trask abruptly walked out the door, leaving his teammates in confusion. Whistling as he walked down the endless corridors, he stopped when he saw a shiny red sign that read _To Davik's Personal Kitchen_. Unfortunately, he was unable to read the fine print below the sign that said _Trespassers Will Be Permanently Incapacitated._

"This looks very interesting," Trask monologued. "I think I'd like to make a deep-dish gizka pastry!" He looked around the kitchen shelves, and found the finest chopped gizkas, along with some curious red sauce. He hurriedly whipped together the dinner, popping it into the nearby burner. When it was finished a few minutes later, he pulled it out with a decorated heat pad from his ever-present inventory bag.

"What the hell are you doin' in here?" said Davik from the other side of the room. Trask smiled at him.

"I'm making a deep dish gizka pastry!" said Trask gleefully. "Would you like to try some?"

Davik eyed it suspiciously.

"First of all, you could be trying to poison me. I don't like that. Secondly, I thought I told you to stay in the guest wing! I've knocked the socks off bigger boys than you, kid."

"Poison?" Trask laughed. "You must have hit your head or something! You're my bunkmate, I'd never poison you!" Trask took a huge bite of the pastry to demonstrate. When he didn't fall to the floor in spasms, Davik relented.

"Ok, sonny, I'll try your damn pastry," he muttered, sauntering over to Trask. Taking a utensil in hand, he took a careful bite. Suddenly, his eyes lit up with a strange fire.

"You made that?"

"Sure as heckfire!" Trask shouted.

Davik suddenly grabbed him and hugged him.

"I ain't had a deep dish gizka pastry this good since I first joined the Exchange! I had something like it in old Mazza's parlor down by the docks, but then I had to bump him off! Trask, my boy, welcome to the Exchange. We have endless opportunities for a budding chef like you! Now, all we gots to do is take you to Coruscant and arrange for you to attend the Coruscant Culinary School. You could be _world famous_, sonny!"

"Does this mean we get to ride the Ebon Hawk tomorrow?" Trask said, thinking hard.

"You know there's a Sith blockade, right? I need the damn launch codes, otherwise we're cooked." Davik said, looking at him curiously.

"Yes, but I have the launch codes right here!" Trask yelled triumphantly, holding them up.

Davik was speechless.

"Kiddo, you amaze me. No wonder Canderous recommended you so highly, that's very impressive. I didn't even hear of a break-in at the Sith base. First thing tomorrow, you and your friends get a one way ticket to Coruscant on the fastest ship in the galaxy. I will not accept no as an answer."

"Hooray, a trip!" Trask cried. He left Davik to finish the pastry, eager to tell the others of their good fortune.

The next morning, the group filed in behind Davik as he led them to the Ebon Hawk.

"Let me just type in the passcode, and we'll be off to Coruscant!" said Davik.

"Wow, Davik seems a lot nicer than they said down in the Lower City!" Mission whispered to the other team members.

"I'm beginning to think that the Force had something to do with Trask's survival," Bastila said.

"Only beginning?" Carth mocked.

The passcode had been entered, and the Ebon Hawk lay gleaming in the hangar bay. The crew moved forward, ready to board.

"Just wait a minute," said a quiet, nasal voice from behind them. They spun around to see Calo Nord, thermal detonator in hand. "You have the pass codes to leave, Davik? And you never told me? It's a good thing I followed you when you woke up this morning. It's a good thing I follow you _every _morning."

Davik laughed.

"I don't owe you anything, Calo. You're nothin' but a goggled freak! I'm sick of you always lurking behind me. It's time you made like a tree and left."

"That doesn't even make sense, Davik. You're toast."

And with that, Calo threw the thermal detonator, which landed directly below Davik's feet. The rest of the group sprang backwards as it exploded. When the smoke cleared, Trask was filled with rage.

"You killed my bunkmate, Davik! For the Republic!"

Before anyone could say anything, Trask had charged Calo and shot him down cold. The hangar bay was silent.

"Ok, let's all get on board! The Ebon Hawk is ours," Canderous exulted.

"And surprisingly, it was legally obtained," Carth added wryly.

As they turned towards the loading ramp, they heard a few more blaster shots. They turned around to see Trask shooting Calo several more times, then throwing a large brick on top of him.

"Um, Trask?" Mission said slowly. "He's. Dead. We can go now."

"Just making sure!" Trask replied, running to catch up with them. "We wouldn't want him to mysteriously return from the dead and corner us on a distant planet, now would we?"

"Because that's completely plausible," Bastila muttered under her breath.

"You never know!" replied Trask.

Meanwhile, in the skies above Taris, the Sith interdictor ship called the Leviathan was circling like a hungry hawk. On the bridge stood Sith Lord Malak, as he surveyed the planet below.

"L…L… Lord Malak," stammered a yellow-toothed balding man in uniform.

"Yes, Admiral Karath?" replied Malak in a throaty, mechanical voice. "Spit it out, if you wish to live."

"Well… it appears that… I've just received word that…"

"YES?" Malak raged, his pasty hands clenching into fists.

"Bastila has already escaped Taris. There is a holonet video of her escaping on a vessel called the Ebon Hawk. I'm so sorry."

"IT ONLY TOOK ONE DAY FOR HER TO EVADE US?" Malak screamed. "WHAT THE HELL, SAUL?"

"Y…yes, Lord Malak."

"How dare you let her escape? I was going to blow up this pathetic planet and be sure of her death. But now I find she is wandering free in the galaxy? Get out of my sight! And chart a course for Coruscant!"

"But… my Lord Malak…"

"Do it! I need a deep dish gizka pastry from the Culinary School. Tell them to test their best and brightest. If they fail to make it to my satisfaction, they will…suffer the consequences."

"As you wish, Lord Malak."


	5. The Trask Class

Chapter Five: The Trask Class

While hurtling through hyperspace, Bastila had announced that they would be visiting the grassy planet of Dantooine, where there was a Jedi Enclave. She said that the events of Taris were "disturbingly abnormal", and that it would be a good time to involve the Jedi Council. Since nobody came up with a better idea (and Trask had accidentally spilled a cup of juma juice all over their navigation charts), the Ebon Hawk set course for Dantooine.

When they arrived, the Jedi Council immediately demanded an audience with Trask and Bastila.

"Why would they want Trask? That doesn't make any sense," complained Carth to Bastila. She haughtily puffed herself up.

"That's none of your concern, Carth. Besides, there are some… pressing issues that they must be made aware of."

"Like how we got into this mess? Like how Trask managed to get us off Taris within a matter of two days? I hate being left out of the loop, and this whole business…well, it's just not normal!" Carth said, exasperated.

"Don't you think I know that, Carth?" Bastila said, placing a hand on her hip. "It wasn't supposed to be him, and I…"

She stopped mid-sentence and let out a girlish gasp.

"I have to go meet with the Council. I will see you later!" she said, sprinting in the direction of the Council chamber without another word on the subject.

Zaalbar moaned mournfully.

"I don't know, Big Z," Mission said, popping her gum loudly. "But you sure are right; everyone here runs around too quickly. It's enough to make a girl's head spin!"

In the Jedi Council Chamber, a frazzled Bastila stood directly to the right of a wizened old Jedi Master, who was shaking his finger in anger at her. Nearby, a green creature shook its head, musing. Several other Masters were listening attentively, furrows creasing their brows.

"Your failure aboard the Endar Spire is a calamity of unparalleled proportions, an apocalypse to end all apocalypses," yelled the ancient man. "You are not worthy of the title of Padawan. You are not worthy of anything, and you are most certainly on the path to the dark side. How can he possibly find all the Star…"

At that precise moment, Trask walked into the Council chamber, grinning widely from ear to ear.

"Are you my new bunkmates? I was just looking for the refresher!"

The members of the Council froze, eyeing the garishly dressed newcomer with incredulous disdain.

"You are Trask Ulgo, newest lieutenant in the entire Republic, correct?" croaked the old Master.

"Sure as heckfire!" Trask shouted. Several of the Masters flinched, and a few rubbed their temples in anxiety.

"I am Master Vrook, and you are an absolute disgrace. You are clearly on the path to the dark side. You will never defeat Lord Malak, or the Sith."

Trask's eyes glowed bright blue as he said with fervor,

"On the contrary, sir, I am sworn to defend the Republic against the menace of the Sith. I will chart unmapped hyperspace routes; I will go to Kashyyyk, to Tatooine, to Manaan, and even to Korriban if I must, but I _will_ defeat Lord Malak!"

During his passionate speech, a book titled "Controlling Your Anger: A 7-Step Program" that was lying on a nearby table began to levitate. Aghast, the Jedi Masters turned to watch it as it floated mid-air. They looked back at Trask, who was still staring blankly with a look of intense focus. Then back at the book. Then back at Trask.

"Master Vandar, you are a disgrace to the Jedi. Now is certainly not the time for your ridiculous pranks," Vrook said angrily, addressing the green creature.

"That is not me, Master Vrook," Vandar replied in a throaty rumble. "I think it is Trask."

An awkward silence filled the Council chamber.

"This meeting is officially and unquestionably adjourned," said Vrook, tapping his feet. "Return later so we can figure out what to do with you."

"Perfect," Trask yelled, beaming, "I've always wanted to go exploring the plains of Dantooine! Looks like my wildest dreams have come true."

As Trask left, Vrook could be heard to mutter,

"I hope he gets eaten by a Kath hound."

* * *

A few hours later, Trask came running into the Council chamber again.

"Oh, hiya everyone!" he shouted, waving his arms. "I didn't know you'd all still be in here! I was just looking around. This place is fantastic!"

"We've just finished discussing you, actually," said Bastila with a faint sneer. "You have the peculiar knack of always showing up at exactly the right time."

"You're to become a Jedi," Vrook said reluctantly, sighing. "We believe that, ludicrous as it may sound, you can use the Force…."

"But I already knew that! I was trained as a Jedi on Coruscant, actually," Trask said, smiling broadly.

"How… what…how is that possible? You're obviously not a full Jedi, or any kind of Jedi for that matter!" Bastila screeched, stamping her little foot. "_I'm_ not even a full Jedi yet, and I can use _Battle Meditation!"_

Trask waved his hand in front of her face.

"Trask Ulgo is a Jedi," he said in low, trancelike tones.

Bastila's eyes went blank and her scowl turned into a peaceful expression.

"Trask Ulgo is a Jedi," she repeated.

The Council collectively gasped.

"Looks like we solved that problem, Vrook," a pink Twi'lek said with a smirk. "We don't have to worry about compressing the years of training after all."

"We cannot just let him be called an official Jedi simply because he says so, Zhar! He… He must have been trained by the Sith!" Vrook said, unwilling to believe.

"But then, he would not make such passionate speeches against the Sith," Vandar said thoughtfully. "This is an unusual development. We must go and meditate some more."

"Yes, go back outside and do whatever you did before, Trask," Vrook said grumpily.

"Okey-dokey!" Trask yelled, running gleefully towards the exit.

* * *

"We have decided that you will be considered an _official _Jedi if you go to a tainted grove about four miles east of here. You have to cleanse a… taint that has been there for some time," Vandar said to the wide-eyed Trask, who was once again standing before them.

"Tainted grove?" Trask asked, scratching his head. "You must have hit your heads harder than I thought! I just brought back Juhani from the grove, she's waiting outside. I found her while you were all debating."

A collective gasp passed through the Council, and Bastila glared at him, with a fury worthy of the fires of hell.

"It's true," said a cat-like woman with an exotic accent from near the door. "Trask saved me. He… he gave me a hug, and told me I was his new… what's the word? Oh, bunk-mate. Then he told me Quatra was ok. So naturally, I followed him here. And sure enough, Quatra is alive and well!"

Vrook shook his fist, pumping the air angrily.

"How is this possible? This was supposed to be a metaphor for the nature of the dark side, not an opportunity for physical embraces and quick explanations!"

Before anyone could say anything else, two old men skipped into the room, linking arms lovingly. They were cooing and calling each other affectionate nicknames.

"Mr. Matale? Mr. Sandral? What in the blazes are you doing? I thought you two hated each other," Vrook said, flabbergasted by the sight before him.

"Oh Master Vrook, we used to," said Mr. Sandral, directing a warm look at the crabby Jedi Master. "But thanks to Trask, we're best friends now. We even have a secret handshake!"

Grinning, the two septuagenarians proceeded to demonstrate their "handshake" to the Jedi Council, complete with backside bump and fake kisses on each cheek.

"That's probably one of the more disturbing things I've ever seen," said Master Zhar, eyes wide.

"Trask is the best damn Jedi I've ever met," Mr. Matale said, placing a hand over his heart. "And if you Jedi Masters don't have the brains to see it, you're even more useless than I originally thought."

Trask beamed, puffing out his chest.

"I was just doing my job as a Jedi," Trask said proudly. "There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no…"

"Don't you quote the Jedi Code, you… you… pretender!" Vrook yelled, waving his arms frantically.

At that moment, a green Twi'lek walked into the Council chamber. Timidly, he looked around at the panoply of people.

"Is this a bad time?" he said in careful tones.

"What is it now, Bolook?" Vrook exhaled, rolling his eyes.

"It's just that... well, this Trask fellow here passed my test."

"He passed the Calder and Guld test?" Vandar said, surprised. "But this… student has had no official training with us!"

"Then it makes his accomplishments even more amazing!" Bolook said, smiling incandescently at Trask. "He simply listened once to each suspect, and then calmly told me exactly what had happened; that both of them were guilty. It took him maybe five minutes!"

"This is… this is an outrage!" screamed Vrook, clutching his face and turning a brilliant purple. "No one is supposed to pass that test, especially in such little time! And solving the Matale and Sandral feud… I can't…I can't…"

"Calm yourself, Vrook," said Vandar carefully, eying his fellow Master.

"Oh, and I suppose he's already investigated the ancient ruins while he was out there, too!" Vrook laughed cynically. "Bah! This is all a setup!"

"Is that what they're called, the ruins?" Trask inquired, smiling maniacally. "I thought they were a secret hideout, and I decided to explore inside! The ancient droid there made me pass some test, I answered some elementary questions about ecology, and then I walked into a room where a sort of map was floating. Apparently, it's called a Star Map, and it leads to something called the Star Forge. I recorded the info, even though it was incomplete. Thought it might be useful in the war effort. I have the datapad right here."

For the first time in eighty years, Vrook was utterly speechless.

"I think, Master Vrook, that we are dealing with an extraordinary case here," said Vandar delicately. "It seems he has done in hours what normally would take years."

"I assume you've constructed a lightsaber?" Zhar said, tentatively.

"Right here! I just clicked "construct" in my inventory when I went to the workbench."

"And do you have a blue, yellow, or green setting crystal, to indicate whether you are a Guardian, Sentinel, or Consular?"

"I found a couple in some strange caves, but I liked this pink one the best. Pink has always been my favorite color." With that, Trask unsheathed his lightsaber, which glowed a vibrant pink in the dim light of the Council Chamber.

"Even in his crystal choice, he really is in a class of his own. The Trask Class, if you will," said Zhar with a hearty snicker.

Pretty soon, the entire Jedi Council (except for Vrook, who was in a state similar to severe anaphylactic shock) was buckled over in sudden laughter.

"I don't see how this is funny," Bastila said haughtily.

"Oh, lighten up, Padawan," said Vandar with a chuckle. "Even you have to see the humor in the situation."

Trask let out a laugh that sounded unnervingly similar to a bark, and the Council burst into fresh giggles.

After the laughter had subsided, Vandar wiped a tear from his wrinkled eye.

"Trask Ulgo, you and Padawan Bastila will search the planets found on the map for more Star Maps, to find this Star Forge that Malak is undoubtedly using. We think Revan and Malak found it when they first came back here, and that it is what turned them to the dark side. And even though our plans have been… changed a bit, we believe that you will be capable of succeeding."

"But how do you know all that, about Revan and Malak and the Star Forge?" Trask asked loudly.

"We just do. We know… many things," said Zhar awkwardly.

"Ok!" said Trask joyously, without further question. "Let's get going, then!"

Bastila was much less enthusiastic.


End file.
